


sweet enough

by nymphori



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymphori/pseuds/nymphori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New habits are easy to form and hard to break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet enough

It starts on a Friday evening. It starts with Keiji finally giving in to the smell. It starts with roasting coffee just outside of the station. It starts with something simple. It starts with something he shouldn't waste his money on. It starts with sinking into a plush couch. It starts next to a switched off fireplace. It starts with a deep black coffee. It starts with thinking that this is nice. It starts with thinking that this is an okay way to treat himself. It starts with thinking it's only once in a while. It starts with pulling out a book to read. It starts with an assignment he glosses over. It starts with the door opening once more. It starts with a flurry of people. It starts with the evening rush. It start's with Keiji's eyes picking up. It starts with a tangle of black hair held high above the queue.

Once it starts it never stops.

Keiji is living on a diet of expensive black coffee and convenience store onigiri in order to afford his daily fixture of expensive black coffee.

Daily. This has become a daily thing.

All to sit beside a fireplace that isn't even switched on nine times out of ten, in a chair that's comfier than his bed, for a glance at messy black hair in a crowd of people at the end of the day. Keiji doesn't even have class until the end of the day. Where he used to rush home so as to not be tempted to buy lunch, now he meanders to the cafe and counts on the burn of coffee to ease the gaping chasm of his stomach. He sits for hours in the cafe reading through notes he doesn't care about yet all for a glimpse of messy black hair in a crowd of people. How did he become this?

It's entirely his new diet of coffee and end of the day bargain onigiri that gets him sick. Keiji is convinced of this. For just one day Keiji lets off on his new routine and instead of setting up camp in the cafe he goes to the supermarket and buys enough vegetables to make up for every single serving of them he's skipped over the last month. At home, he cooks the entire lot in his too small kitchen while he brews up pot after pot and downs cup after cup of tea. When the food is ready Keiji loads it all into a pile in a bowl and carries it down to the table to eat. He brings over one final pot of tea to drink with his food as well.

Keiji wakes the next day to a crick in his neck. His blanket pulled down on top of him with a corner draped precariously close to his empty bowl. His phone is playing a video that must be a long way down the _watch next_ list of whatever video he had fallen asleep to. He's surprised his phone hasn't died, actually. He's even more surprised that he feels so much better after a crash course of nutrients and hydration. A new remedy he will have to put into action again in the future to see if it has the same effect. To make sure that he really isn't sick anymore, Keiji repeat his afternoon once more but the next day he is happy to find his way back to what he thinks of as his chair by the fireplace.

He drops his bag off at the table before heading up to order just in case other people don't see it as his spot given his two-day absence. Given his absence, Keiji doesn't expect the barista to start up a conversation with him.

"How are you today?" It's not a strange question. Only Keiji registers it as the slightest bit different from the usual _how can I help you_.

"I'm fine," he answers curtly and waits for the usual question.

The question still doesn't come, instead, Keiji feels too kind eyes zeroing in on every inch of his face and only after an uncomfortable amount of time does the barista talk again. "That's good, we were worried because you weren't here for a couple of days!"

Keiji wants to be angry because he hasn't been coming every day for that long but he's also somewhat touched that this place he's been making a home of every afternoon misses him when he's not here. Even if it's just about the comparatively cheap drink he buys, Keiji is touched. "I was sick, but I'm feeling better now." He decides to tell the truth to this stranger because in thirty seconds of conversation Keiji decides he deserves it.

"That's terrible!" An exaggeration. It was simply inconvenient. "I'm glad you're better now!"

"Thank you," Keiji says, only a little bit confused as a drink he hasn't ordered yet is pushed across the counter towards him. Instead of asking about it, Keiji heeds the less than polite cough behind him and scurries back to his seat drink in hand. He finishes the drink quicker than usual and digs into actually read notes he doesn't remember taking from the last couple of days.

Just like that, Keiji is pulled back into his routine.

He takes a peek for the flurry of people at the end of the day and rewrites a few more points from his lectures that don't make any sense to him at all. When he has then written out in a way that maybe he'll be able to figure out the meaning of later, Keiji picks his head up once more, this time, to look for messy black hair. Which he finds above amber eyes and a smile that should be illegal. Keiji has only looked up for messy hair before, if he had known what he was missing out on he would have looked longer, waited to see the face beneath the hair, but it's also a nice surprise. More than just a nice surprise, Keiji will be looking out for the face beneath the hair now. The face is disarmingly attractive compared to the mess of his hair.

Keiji goes back to his notes. When Messy Hair leaves, so will he. This is enough excitement for one day after being sick.

"Do you mind?"

"No, it's fine. I was leaving soon anyway," Keiji says, pulling his notes towards him and picking up his bag to sit in his lap.

"Oh, really?" Keiji jolts as too long legs knock against his own under a too small table. "I was kind of hoping to join you."

Keiji lets out a sigh, silent, contained to his chest. He's had a coffee, he's seen Messy Hair, he's looked over his notes, he's ready to go.

"Oh," never mind. From the corner of his eye, Keiji sees two plates set on the table. They are shortly followed by two drinks. Keiji doesn't get a special drink, he, in fact, gets the most basic of drinks that the cafe offers, but still, he pauses because how many people really order black coffee at a cafe? He feels, and it's just instinct, but Keiji Keiji feels like it's for him. He stops packing his bag and finally meets the eyes of the person across from him, "it's you."

Something passes over his face, "do you know me?"

"No," Keiji says, "I've just seen you around before." Keiji brings one hand up to his hair and the guy opposite doesn't seem to appreciate being recognised solely because of his hair.

"Please don't judge me based on that."

"I wasn't," the hair was simply an identifier, Keiji hasn't associated anything with it. "I actually thought it was interesting."

His face changes, all defence over his appearance melts down into a soft smile. It's nice. His face is nice. Keiji is glad he paused in his motions even if this is all it's for. There's more to the guy than messy hair, probably more than just a nice face too, in time.

"I'm glad, this is for you by the way," one point to Keiji, "I hope you feel better soon." He smiles. The time to get to know him starts now. 


End file.
